Left 4 Dead  Delta
by TheFlixonase10
Summary: Ever imagined if the four survivors were four members of Delta Force, the best of the best and the most elite of soldiers?  Feel free to read and comment, constructive criticism is appreciated.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

I coughed heavily as I stepped into a cramped, stuffy room filled with smoke and ash. It was not a good move. I really should have stayed outside.

Except that the world I had grown up seeing had suddenly taken a massive upheaval.

My parents had died on me years before then and my uncle who raised me was an army veteran who fought in the Vietnam war. And as things had gone, my uncle was my pillar of strength and he taught me things that schools could never have done. I was raised to live by a code of honour, justice and loyalty, having discipline in every aspect of my life. And it was no surprise to anyone that I enlisted one day into the armed forces as well. Three years I spent in the 101st Airborne Division, hoping I could fulfill my uncle's wish of seeing me don the Green Beret, becoming the pride of the country. Well, that day never came.

Instead I had undergone the harsh training and mental conditioning of an Airborne Ranger. My old uncle would have been proud anyway on the day that I completed the Ranger course and graduated the top of my cohort, putting to shame several Lieutenants and even a Captain from other divisions. My team-mates in the course called me "the Bull", citing a ferocious determination and a relentless will to take on any challenges however difficult as reasons for that nickname. I was taken to the 75th Ranger Regiment and became part of the special force.

But when I had thought being a ranger was difficult, my superior recommended that I joined the 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment- Delta. Me, being "the Bull", jumped at the prospect of becoming part of the legendary Delta Force. A stupid move made by a really stupid guy who just wanted to make his old uncle proud of him. I had rarely cried in my entire life, but it was in the Delta Operator course that I wept uncontrollably. Challenges that seemed so insurmountable came from every corner, stacked on top of the brutal physical training and psychological assaults. People always say that those from the Special Forces are superhuman. They are only half-right. Outwardly we portray ourselves as fearless, invincible soldiers. But inside, we are just the same. We still have feelings, fears and emotions. But how can we display any signs of weakness at all?

Before we became operators, we had already been trained to kill. Being Delta operators turned us into trained killers.

And that was why the existence of an enemy that could not be permanently eliminated overwhelmed me at first. They were all around us, pale savage zombie-like creatures. God knows what they were, but they definitely made my hair stand. They were not difficult to kill but the problem was that their numbers never seem to dwindle. They just kept coming and coming.

"Wha'cha thinkin' about, kid?" a low, rough voice echoed in the small room. I looked at the source of the voice; a dark-haired rugged man with high cheekbones and spots of grime on his face.

Ignoring the man, I kicked aside an empty can of baked beans and leaned against a wall at the far corner of the room. Gazing out through a window coated with years of dust, I could make out several of those zombie creatures staggering across a street not more than two hundred metres away.

"I'm talkin' to you, corporal." The voice came again, this time with more far more aggression than before.

My eyes swerved to the man who was sitting on an upturned wooden crate, smoking what was left of a cigarette. He met my eyes with a steely glare which would have made most adult males shrink back in trepidation. But I was not your average adult male. I stared back at his cold, onyx eyes with equal intensity.

"Now no need for all this animosity, soldiers. We're all in this shit hole together and we gonna have to work together if we wanna make it out alive."

I breathed out heavily and turned my gaze to the third man, easing the tension that was quickly building up. He was a massive guy, standing at six feet three, with a shaven head and a brown goatee. The man nodded appreciatively at me and with two fingers, removed the lit cigarette from his lips. Breathing out one last puff of smoke, the bald man tossed the cigarette onto the concrete floor and crushed it under his black army combat boots.

"Whatever you say, Staff," the dark-haired man said nonchalantly, turning his eyes back to a tattered poster of an old 1960s film about cowboys and the wild west.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2: Fighting Fire with Fire

The sky was a dark shade of orange now. The Sun crept slowly into the horizon, casting its fading light over the small town that we were now in. There was an ominous sense of foreboding and my body was tense. There were four of us who took turns standing guard outside the room, or our 'bunker', which was some sort of security guardroom that had been abandoned not too long ago. The air-conditioning was faulty and since we barricaded ourselves inside, there was little air moving in and out.

My black digital watch beeped and saw the digits 1800. It was a hardy watch, and it had been with me for almost five years telling time wherever I went. The time had not yet come for me to take over from the previous sentry but since I was not feeling the least bit tired, I just wanted to breathe some fresh air and get out of this stinking room. Putting on my ballistic helmet which looked like the top of a bowling ball and my 20-pound armoured ballistic vest, I opened the door and stepped outside to a fenced car park. A man in army combat pants, white T-shirt and the same armoured vest I was wearing, was standing close to the door and keeping watch for the zombie creatures in case they got too close. He had a Green Beret on his head and a M4 carbine assault rifle slung over his front. I noticed the grips of two handguns tucked nicely under his belt and a long combat knife possibly stolen from a Marine because it looked identical to the one I had which _was_ stolen from a Marine.

"Hey Joseph, your shift's over. Go get some rest," I called out to the stocky man with the Green Beret. He could hear me, albeit a little muffled, through the special ear-plugs that he had put on due to its ingenious design which only blocked sudden, loud noises like the crack of gunfire.

"Hey Zeto, don't worry about it. I don't need that much sleep to survive. Was thinking about raiding the supermarket over there for more supplies. Y'know, the one we went into three days ago. There ain't nothing much left to eat now," the Green Beret said, pointing his index finger at a short building about two hundred metres away.

"Hm, good idea. But I reckon we should tell the others before we engage the enemy. You never know what kinda crap's gonna happen," I replied," and being in the Special Forces has taught me to _always _expect crap to happen."

"Alrigh' then. I'll be telling the Staff about our little excursion," said Joseph, "and then we can make a move to the supermarket and be back before night falls."

Joseph pushed the door to the "bunker" open and walked inside, leaving me alone for a few minutes.

I walked over to a pile of scrambled rubble and removed a few pieces of broken concrete. Then I stretched my hand into the bottom of the pile and picked up a shiny black Beretta M9 pistol which I had hidden in the event of an emergency. The dark metal gleamed in my hand and with one quick motion; I slipped the magazine out to check if the gun was fully loaded. It was exactly the way I had left it, locked and loaded.

"Here, this is for you." Green Beret Joseph said as he came out of the door, handing an M4 carbine to me.

"Thanks," I grunted in appreciation, stuffing the Beretta under my belt and taking the assault rifle from Joseph. I pulled back the charging handle of the gun to cock the weapon and make it 'live'. Now it was ready to drill bullets into the skulls of my enemies. I loved the feel of the carbine in my hands. It gave me a huge sense of security, knowing that with this weapon I held the power to kill and protect. The M4 was a beautiful weapon, designed for mid-range gunfights up to two hundred metres. Most of America's special operations forces used this rifle and we were trained to use it with deadly precision.

"So how long have you been in Delta? I see that you're still wearing your Green Beret." I quizzed Joseph.

"Not long. I came over from the SF 'bout two years ago. The Captain told me Delta needed new operators and I said okay. Never regretted though. Six operations in Iraq, five of them never made public and as far as the government was concerned, they never happened either. My Green Beret is worn simply for identity. Especially since I'm in the presence of three hardcore Rangers."

As we walked slowly, almost lazily, on the road to the supermarket, a sudden movement caught my eye and sent my senses into overdrive. It was such a quick attack that all I saw was a black blur before I knew what hit us. One of the zombie creatures dressed in a black hoodie had dashed from a building behind us and pounced on Joseph, bringing him down to the ground. My rifle was trained on the creature immediately but I did not fire for fear of hitting my team-mate.

"Don't shoot! I got it!" Joseph yelled, as he spun and wrestled with the zombie on the ground.

Obeying his order, my finger froze on the trigger and watched as Joseph sent a mighty fist crashing into the face of the zombie. Its hood flung over its head and I saw a hideous pale face with bloodstained lips and razor sharp teeth. Two more powerful blows stunned the zombie and Joseph took the initiative to pummel his forehead straight into the zombie's chest. Pulling out the combat knife from his belt, Joseph jumped on the disorientated zombie and thrust the blade into its neck. Then he rained the zombie with brutal punches before retrieving the blade from its neck and using it to slash its neck open. Wiping his blade clean on the zombie's hoodie jacket, Joseph watched warily as it made one last gasp for air before turning still. From what I could observe, the zombie would have already been killed from the savage punches that Joseph landed on it. The usage of the knife simply made it faster. It was almost too easy for him to kill that creature. The close combat skills that we were taught in the Unit had already turned us into deadly killing machines even without weapons.

But unfortunately the Hoodie's shrieks drew the attention of a dozen or so zombies to our location. Joseph picked up his Green Beret which had dropped off during his scuffle with the Hoodie and fixed it back firmly on top of his head.

"Now the fight gets better."


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3:

"Try to get more of those freaks than me, okay?" Joseph challenged with a wide grin on his face, flashing his pearly white teeth.

"Definitely," I replied, focusing on the sight through the scope on the top of the M4 carbine. I was definitely going to get more kills than this Green Beret standing beside me. It was a friendly competition, but I saw it as my life's mission to outdo all Green Berets that I encountered in everything.

Two shots. All it took for any Special Force operative to take down an enemy permanently. This time was no different; perhaps even easier as this enemy did not even shoot back. Taking aim at the head of a disfigured, pale-skinned zombie, I squeezed the trigger of my rifle twice. Two bullets burst out of the barrel so fast that I could not see their line of travel. The head of the zombie exploded and its body fell slowly, almost gently onto the ground. Another few more taps of the trigger and the road was soon littered with zombie corpses. I could barely feel the recoil of the M4 carbine. Using it was so simple and natural to me. Joseph and I took superbly-aimed shots to eliminate the zombies with surgical precision. All of them were put down within five minutes before they even got near enough to touch us.

After eliminating all the zombies, the two of us walked straight up to the shattered glass door of the supermarket and searched for any zombies that were waiting to ambush us. Thankfully all of them were motionless corpses sprawled on the ground and unable to harm us. They were the results of our four-man raid on the supermarket just the other day.

"Use this to collect some food," said Joseph, throwing a large plastic trash bag at me. I caught it with one hand and opened it wide. Then I strolled down an aisle of canned food, carefully stepping over the dark pools of blood on the smooth floor. I swept cans of beans, sausages, mushrooms and the lot into the trash bag with several 'clangs'. When two-thirds of the bag was filled with canned food, I went over to the beverage section and stuffed four cartons of six-pack beers into the bag. I grabbed a bottle of cola off the shelf and opened it with a hiss. Sitting on a few cartons of beer, I took a few minutes to just relax and drink. The cola was not chilled but I enjoyed it all the same as it fizzed down my throat. I loved cola and savoured the taste while it lasted. There might not be many chances to drink it in the near future. Leaving the bag full of food and drink on the ground, I walked over to the snacks section and nicked a chocolate bar. I tore the wrapping open and gobbled it in three bites. Damn it was delicious. Having chocolate in the midst of a zombie apocalypse was certainly bizarre. It almost made me feel as though I was back in normal life before all this shit.

I let out a sigh of satisfaction. This temporary state of peace was good; but we had to find something more lasting. A safe zone where all of us could actually rest without worrying when would the enemy attack. I went back to my filled trash bag and tugged it with one hand. In my other hand, I held my Beretta M9 in case any of the zombies suddenly attacked. Then I walked to the entrance and waited for Joseph.

"Hey Zeto, look what's on your right."

My eyes swerved to my right and I saw a long, slimy purple tentacle creeping down slowly from above. I knew what this was. It was the freakin' tongue of a grotesque monstrous zombie that exploded in thick black smoke when it was killed. Like a walking smoke grenade, except much uglier and much smellier. The tongue dripped disgusting green saliva and it stank badly.

Not wanting to be engulfed in an unnecessary smokescreen, I let go of my bag and reached out for the slimy tongue. Getting a good grip on the tongue, I tugged at it with great force and its owner fell from the top of the building with a sickening thud. It landed roughly a metre away from me with a yelp of surprise. I moved forward quickly and launched a powerful kick across its face. The zombie tried to escape as it clambered up on its feet and began running away from me. I allowed it to move further away from us before raising my M4 carbine and taking aim. The zombie screeched in victory as it thought it had gotten away from us and its mocking laughter echoed throughout the empty street. When the zombie had run about fifty metres away, I fired off three bullets into its head and back. As predicted, it exploded in a cloud of obsidian black smoke which was almost as thick as ink. The smoke cloud covered a radius of about five metres around it.

Joseph grinned slyly at my work.

"Not bad, Ranger."

Have a Happy New Year lads. Make 2012 a meaningful year for yourself and your family and friends.

Check this out if you've never seen it before. Pretty cool.  
>.comwatch?v=shOhrJEHfg0&NR=1&feature=endscreen


	4. Character Stats

Just some trivia info before the new chapter is up. Considering the average L4D Character (Louis, Ellis, Bill, etc) have HEALTH: 100 and ARMOUR: 0, this is how our hero compares.

Corporal Kenneth ZETO

AGE: 26  
>HEIGHT: 1.83m (6 ft)<br>WEIGHT: 87kg

HEALTH: 150  
>ARMOUR: 100<p>

TRAITS:

Exceptional Survival Skills (Kenneth can survive in very harsh conditions and is able to make use of his surroundings to the fullest),

Situational Awareness (Kenneth is extremely alert and able to spot enemies from afar),

Close Combat Mastery (Kenneth has trained for many years in a variety of martial arts and he is able to use unarmed moves such as Punches, Grapples and Kicks),

High Pain Tolerance (Kenneth has undergone torturous training and he is able to withstand tremendous amounts of pain making him able to move just as quickly when close to death),

Increased Agility (Kenneth can run, climb and move faster than most humans),

Increased Strength (Kenneth is strong enough to bench-press 150kg/330 lbs),

Quick Mind (Kenneth is a smart guy who can think very quickly, do mental calculations and react accordingly to situations),

Rapid Reflexes (Kenneth's reflexes have been honed to animal-like levels and this allows him to react to danger faster than the average human),

Marksman (Kenneth's shooting ability with the rifle and other guns is impeccable as a soldier and he rarely misses),

Team Player (Kenneth is aware of the conditions of his team-mates and he always chooses to save them before himself)


End file.
